For your entertainment only....
11:00 PM... I climb in my bed donning my husband's hoodie, ski socks, sweat pants, and double fisting huge piles of kleenex. Denver is already in bed asleep, snoring in fact. I lie my head down, cozy into my memory foam pillow, which was stiff from my cold north facing bedroom. My eyelids touch for 2.3 seconds and I hear crying from Dutchy's room.
11:20 PM... Husband gets up and tries to get baby back to sleep... all is quiet for moments before he is laid back into his bed and crying commences yet again.
"What's wrong with him?", I say.
"I don't know", Denver says.
"I guess he will go back to sleep eventually", I say.
11:58 PM Barbaric scream comes from boys room... Daxx wakes up due to excessive crying and pillaging from the ravage toddler, and we hear pitter patter of feet coming toward our room for refuge... I throw back the covers and Daxx crawls into bed, and then we all three lay there and listen to the restless Dutchy-doo....
12:20 AM... One hour of awakeness has passed... I am about to loose my mind. All I want is sleep. I have chills... my nose is dripping like the kitchen faucet I kept trickling to prevent freezing the night before last. Two boney feet shove through my back and elbows fly into my face.
1:00 AM... Dutchy is still not asleep, and has reached maximum cry capacity... I muster my feverish body out of bed and march down the hallway. I reach in to pick Dutch up and I realize there is something gooey and sticky all over his bed, and also throughout his hair. Immidiatly, I empathize with the poor fella. He must of thrown up... from crying. Go ahead and call me the worst mother on the planet. After I get him to sleep, I have decided to walk in the subzero temps to the police department and turn myself in for child neglet... I let him cry until he threw up... pooooor guy. So, I rock him. And he stares... for hours... at me... and never...closes... his eyes....
Finally I ask, "Do you want to go back to bed?"
"Yes", he nods.
So to bed he goes, and to bed I go... only to find my bed taken over by the littles and Denver zonked out in the pink bunk bed down the hall.
I turn and hobble around to find Denver and say...
"So Dutch threw up, and I am a horrible mom. I can't believe I let him cry until he threw up. I feel so bad."
"No. He didn't throw up", he says.
"Yes. His hair was crusted to his head, it was all over his sheets... I had to change them, " I say.
"It was a banana", he says.
"WHAT?! A banana?", I say.
"Yes. I put him to bed with a banana", he says.
"Why?! Why would you put a 18 month old to bed with a banana?", I say. "Are you crazy?"
"The other two wanted a banana, so I had to give him one too", he says.
"Well, I am glad he is alive and I guess that news makes me a good Mother again, thank you!", I say.
Welcome to my reality. And, please, never put your 18 month old to bed with a banana, not only is it a choking hazard, it creates an insane mess...overnight the banana-mush solidifies into a cement like substance that can only be removed by soaking baby for 1.5 hours in a hot bath.
Thanks for reading friends :))